


Wings And Things

by Otoshigo (justkristin)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Body Modification, F/F, Light Angst, Pharmercy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 23:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14758413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justkristin/pseuds/Otoshigo
Summary: Fareeha wants what Moira has to offer, much to the dismay of Angela.





	Wings And Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ryu_rocketarmor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryu_rocketarmor/gifts).



> First ever fic on here... online, really. Rip it to shreds. I am eager to learn.

Fareeha was not a fidgeter. She was a calm person, even mid-battle, and did not babble or blush... for the most part. Tonight, however, in the cool-sheeted darkness of their bed, where she lay face down, twiddling and pulling at her fingers, she worried whether the sighs she was trying to muffle in her pillow were audible. She listened to Angela's breathing, calm but not sleep-slow, and tried to gauge a conversational entry point the way a double-dutch player listens to the slap of the ropes, knowing that one unsure move will have her ankle-tied and flat on her face. Her head was starting to spin; she could not, for the life of her, figure out how to tell Angela about the *thing* with Moira.

"What is it, Knuddelbär? It sounds like you are making origami under your pillow." The pair turned, each on a side, to face each other, and Angela slid a hand between Fareeha's arm and ribs to give a comforting caress. 

"Quick, like removing a band-aid," thought Fareeha, who was made both calm and contrite by the smile aimed at her. 

"Habibti... I was talking to Moira today."

"I saw that! I was wondering if I should send you a rescue call to give you an out..." The doctor laughed until she noticed not even a smile came in reply.

"No, Angela... Angie... I *wanted* to talk to her." There was a pregnant pause while words were labored over; Angela's face became calm, though not cold, and she waited for her love to continue. 

Everything came out in a rush, then: "I haven't stopped thinking since her spiel in the cafeteria the other night, letting her modified weasel flap around, trying to learn how to use its new wings... What if she *could* put real wings on us —" Here, Angela scowled, and Fareeha scrambled to fix things. "On *me*, love? What if I could fly without the extra mech? Think how nimble I could become if I trained —"

"If! If! And until then? Bumbling about banging into things like the weasel? Bah! That's not even the point! Your body is, like the weasel, not made for wings! There is *no* guarantee that *any* wings she could give you would be a *tenth* as capable as the ones from Raptora! She wouldn't be doing you a favor any more than shi did the poor, unsuspecting weasel—"

"But, habibti, unlike the weasel, at least I would be consenting to her operations!"

"Oh! You *would*? You still think she is offering this to better you? To advance humanity? She is only interested in what *she* can do. It is, like what Olivia says... Blinky lights? Why would you offer yourself up for such experimentation? If she was offering an elephant trunk would you stand in line? You haven't said yes, have you?"

After a moment in which their breathing slowed and paired in speed, Fareeha whispered, "No. Not yet, love. Never without talking with you."

Another full chorus of inhales and exhales. "But, why? Can you tell me why you'd want this, really?" A physician's steady palm against Fareeha's face brought uncommonly shy brown eyes up to gaze into unusually anxious blue ones. A hesitation of two breaths made them both feel as though they were drowning. Fareeha swallowed hard.

"I want to *feel* it, love. I want to feel the air with my wings. I want to feel the power of them. I want to feel the sun on them. I want... I want to feel *you* in them."

Neither could continue. There was more to be asked, certainly, more to be said. There was too much at the moment, though, to be felt, and emotion stole their words.

They embraced without speaking further, collapsing around and onto each other like the last two logs in a fire, their embrace complete but not confining. Like that, they slept, both dreaming uneasy but exciting dreams.


End file.
